Jenny from the Blog is like comedy crack, but more addictive and less wack.

Tag Archives: humor

This is still one of my favorite V-Day moments (awkwardness, inappropriateness, and fear for my safety aside).

On February 14th a few years back, Ry, my daughter, then 5 years old, trotted into my room to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day, to hand me a stunning hand-made card, and to neck.

Sure, they tell you not to make-out with your kids, but sometimes there’s a fine line between so cute and so scary.

What parent doesn’t secretly love it when their child says they want to marry them (assuming they’re too young for marriage at the time)? I mean, for how many more years are they going to want to hug, snuggle, or hold hands?

“This card is sooo beautiful. Come give Mommy a kiss,” I said in a very innocent non-romantic way.

Ry, maybe wanting to show me the magnitude of the holiday, grabbed my face with both hands and planted the biggest soap opera smooch on me. I started to giggle mid-peck…

I’ve had some awkward V-Day Moments, from my 5yo trying to soap opera kiss me to my hubby trying to stuff himself and champagne into an undersized NYC bathtub in our undersized NYC apartment to my dauther telling me, I make her want to “puke of love”. That said, I’ve decided this year will not be awkward. No, we will all be realistic in our planning and our phrasing.

As I picked up a pack of those V-Day conversation hearts (the candies that are supposed to represent the sweet nothings you would whisper in your lover’s ear before bed, like: I LOVE U, B MINE, KISS ME…), I thought, this is anything but realistic phrasing. Those sayings are more saccharine sweet than the candy, so I made a list that resembles real pillow talk. These are the phrases that should be etched on those cute little hearts, after a few years of marriage.

Be warned: this list is not for newlyweds, so you can refrain from reading and telling me how blissful your marriage is. Give it a few years. Ahem- I mean, I’m happy for you.

Let’s face it, sometimes in-laws can drive us crazy. Mine love to whisper in front of me in a rather loud rendition of a whisper… (among other things).

But on Thanksgiving I get them back, or should I say, “I give it back” and isn’t that the point of Thanksgiving … the giving? Yes, it’s a Thanksgiving tradition.

You see, I’m a poultry-phobe. I fear fowl, and when cooking it, I’m usually convinced that poultry is simply a bunch of salmonella clumped together in the shape of wings, breasts, turkeys etc. You know, like the way meat was shaped for the McRib? In fact, whenever I see a picture on Facebook where someone has stupidly stuck an entire raw turkey on their head (and I’ve seen a few), I assume they are going to die. Continue reading →

This picture implies that he was washing my car. He in fact, was not, but I couldn’t find a better picture of an elderly man near a car… MAKE DO.

See how polite I’m being? Calling him an elderly gentleman and not an old curmudgeon? No, that would be rude and I am not rude. Well, unless you consider running a poor old curmudgeon over with your car “rude.” Then yes, I may be rude, but I have an excellent vocabulary and that has to count for something.Continue reading →

As we all know, the best ideas are generated during periods of total and utter boredom. Also, in the shower but there’s never anything to write with so, I imagine lots of great inventions are washed down the drain. Like time machines and renewable toxic waste…

Well, this is one of those brilliant ideas that I dreamed up and had the good fortune to get on paper. PHEW.

BTW, someone needs to invent a pad and pen that you can write with in the shower…

With the advent of camp emails and bunk notes, it’s never been easier to keep in constant contact with your camper. Unfortunately, it’s you contacting them and not so much them contacting you. I should know, spending this summer at camp, I realize that my own great intentions to write letters were squashed by one of my other great intentions — to enjoy camp. Yes, speaking in your camper’s defense, camp is tiring and non-stop, and like being on a constant roller coaster — the last thing anyone wants to do is screech all that fun/energy to a halt to write an update. Also, so much happens in a day that when anyone does sit down to write it’s almost daunting to try to recap, hence the one liners: “Camp is fun.”

That said, I get the plight of the parent as well. Unless you’re rock climbing, getting up on water skis for the first time, tipping canoes, having bonfires, talent shows or raucous games of Name That Tune around the house, the whole we write you and get nothing in return is an oxymoronic phenomenon.Continue reading →

i Have an iLove iHate Relationship with the Apple Store. (A little Apple Store humor for frustrated customers who really kinda love that place, like me.)

Last week, I took a trip to the Apple store. Oh, the Apple store. It’s like a Dylan’s Candy Bar for adults. Like it’s namesake, in the Garden of Eden, or in the hands of Snow White’s evil stepmother, APPLE was so inviting… so enticing. There it was, in all of its overcrowded, 8 gazillion watt minimalistic splendor. Continue reading →

Every summer, many of my Gen X cohorts and I, were carted off to sleepaway camps across the country. We packed our trunks, made sure we had as many flip up collar polo style shirts as possible and headed off for 2-8wks of re-wording pop songs, crushing on counselors with British accents, and dressing up as Madonna and Michael Jackson . This summer I’m going to back to camp, with my kids.

Let me restate that so that you can process it… My kids are going to Camp Lenox in Massachusetts and I’m freakin’ following them — because something is so very wrong with me… and so I can write about the camp experience from a mom’s POV (while I slowly go insane).

Sooo, while thinking about how I’ll survive camp the 2nd time around (as an adult who likes morning lattes and pillow top beds with box springs… and roads), I started to reminisce about what it was like the first time around.

Here it is: Hey Gen Xer, you were probably a camper if…

1. If you can finish most of these songs: Shave and a haircut… Everywhere we go-oh people wanna know-oh… John Jacob Jingle… Hello Muddah hello…

The best Mother’s Day ever – the gift of laughter… I mean lying, the gift of lying. A child who’s been brainwashed, ahem, slightly nudged into making complimentary statements. It’s the gift that keeps on giving…

Let’s face it, kids are brutally honest. For instance I had no idea my butt was so jiggly until my daughter nicely informed me. (OK fine, I knew, but I didn’t need it pointed out.)

My kids also say lovely stuff like, “Mommy, I’m lucky, you’re way more fun than the other mothers” or “Mommy, I bet when we go out, people think we’re sisters.”

When my little ones say stuff like that, the result is sheer unadulterated joy, which is why I’m inventing Rosetta Stone (Mother’s Day Edition) so that we can all feel that love everyday. Yep, I’ll be putting a multitude of beautiful sentiments (we wish our children would utter) on cassette, CD, MP3, 8-Track and those odd tiny tapes that came with 80s answering machines … so that our kids (via our mates or parents or anyone else willing to shell out the $499.00 I’m charging) can be brainwashed into showering us with enough kind remarks to last a lifetime, or at least until next Mother’s Day, when we’ll be expecting a new piece of jewelry.

That’s right, in no time your kids will be speaking fluent “Mother” with popular phrases like: “Mommy, I know I can be exhausting … shall I pour you Cab or Chard?” and “Mommy, even though you can’t seem to convert fractions into decimals, I still think you’re smarter than daddy.”

Here are some of the other amazing things your children will be repeating like parrots in no time:

Mommy, how come all the other mothers look so old and you look so young? Was I a teen pregnancy?

Mommy, can we please run more errands? There’s no bonding time that could surpass the bond of a joint trip to say, Costco, we will bond in bulk.

Mommy, I don’t think I want to date until I’m 20, and I want to wear one of those creepy celibacy rings the Jonas brothers wore, because it’s OK to be creepy when you abstain.

Mommy, I will love you forever and when I’m married my family will still spend all holidays at your house, heck, we’ll be living next store, so it’ll be a short trip.

Mommy, I promise to never ask you to drop me off a block away from my destination and pretend we don’t know each other. You are my bestie and I want the world to know it, that’s why I got you this Best Friends charm (pick your half).

Mommy, I think hand sanitizer and sunblock are the most brilliant inventions ever. I shall use them unsparingly.

Mommy, you shouldn’t feel guilty about checking your email, updating your Facebook status, tweeting, or playing Words With Friends while only half paying attention to me. Nay nay, I’m in awe of your ability to multitask.

Mommy, I’ve learned that you are never wrong, which is why I will listen intently to all your advice and never claim to know better.

When I have a tantrum over a candy, toy, pet, random thing that in no way seems like something a child would want … I’m utterly impressed when you don’t give in! (Also, for the times that you do give in, I promise not to tell anyone.)

Mommy, I know there are children starving, which is why I am going to eat this broccoli with total love and thankfulness in my heart … and a smile on my face and then I will have seconds.

Mommy, I’m done with my book, now I’ll just go clean my room, run myself a bath, and get along with my brother.

Well, help me become a billionaire … Ask someone to buy you my Mother’s Day Edition of Rosetta Stone and feel free to add any phrase you’d like to hear below (for an extra grand I’ll add them to your personal set). I feel the money rolling in… (And be on the lookout for the Mom of a Tween edition where you will actually get “yes” or “no” responses to questions and a trusty Grunt to English guide to decipher all the wonderful things your tween will be whispering under his/her breath!)

GO JOIN THE INSANITY ON FACEBOOK – AND ALSO PLEASE TAKE A SEC TO SHARE OR LIKE! XO

When I had my first child, I wanted to do everything by the book. I was so nervous that the tiniest misstep would somehow break the baby. In fact, one of my first pieces was about how shocked I was that they just let me leave the hospital with this infant.

As a card carrying Gen-Xer, I had an obsession with Barbies. I played with them until I was nearly 14, which I try not to admit in public because at that age, your Barbies are basically having make-out sessions that lead to awkward Barbie hookups, which is both ironic and also impossible – hello, has anyone seen Ken’s crotchal region?

My hair, which was never more than baby fine to begin with, started to fall out as soon as I stopped breast feeding. Yes, when everyone else was losing their hair after giving birth, I was mocking them with my luxurious locks and my big engorged boobies. Of course they got theirs – my boobs and locks that is. The tatas deflated and the follicles ran for the hills, well, my drain.

Now, as I’m getting older, my hair seems to be thinning out even more. This is why I’ve become obsessed with making my hair thicker and also keeping it in my head. It’s also why I’m debunking all the hair myths I’ve fallen for over the years, because frankly, I don’t have time to crack raw eggs on my head and mix them with mayo on a daily basis. To me, that’s egg salad, and it should stay between two pieces of bread. Continue reading →